Running From
by BraveTheElements
Summary: It's been a while since i've written and I thought i'd come back with new tricks and a new style. T/E (with a smattering of A/B and S/J), because it's all I do, a bit more on the tragic side, because it's all I do, and a series of stand alone-ish but connected chapters. R&R, tell me what you think. T for minor language.
1. En Media Res

**A/N: So It's been like two years since I've written anything here, but I thought I'd throw one in here. Who knows, maybe I'll stick around for longer than I did in 2012.**

Three thirty seven. They say not to buy a digital clock because being able to read the faint red digits makes it harder to sleep at night. For someone with insomnia, the numbers become fixations, reminders of each minute passing. Three thirty eight. I trashed the sheets off of my bed at three thirty four and at three thirty five I attempted to put the fitted sheet back on but the corners of my bed were obscured in the twilight of the street lamps. And I couldn't be bothered to turn on the light. They also say to keep the lights off when you can't sleep. To turn off all electronics. Three thirty eight. I stopped listening to music about two hours ago when I lay down to go to bed, but I kept surfing the internet. Is it narcissistic to Google yourself? It's been a while since we had been famous, and my results are still at the top of the page. But I have an uncommon name, so it really isn't that strange. Only Teddy Roosevelt came up before me when you searched "Theodore", so I feel like that's a good person to be second to. Four twelve.

The street lights and wayward cars painted my bedroom with streaks of beige strobe, but I always wanted it to last just a bit longer, to linger with me. But it was light. It never wanted to stay longer than its expected course, which I guess made it a good house guest but a terrible friend. My phone shakes the spare change, rattling the coins around the glass plate that I tossed them on after being out with Alvin all night. I deleted her number on my phone, but I recognized it. It's been a while since I'd have to memorize any number, but I thought it was always good to know one, in case I was in a car accident and my phone was shattered on impact and I needed to call somebody. So deleting her number wasn't exactly the best tactic, or even an idea that made much sense. I tried to convey this to Alvin, but he turned away my protests with more shots and to take all of his advice.

"Moshi moshi," I said.

"Theo?" she said.

"Ellie, thanks for calling me so late. You woke me up," I said.

"Liar, I knew you would be awake. It's not like you never get any sleep anyway.

I laughed and she laughed but she stops herself mid laugh and I follow suit

"It's been a while," I said.

"It's been a week," she said.

"That long? It feels like shorter, or longer. Something. It doesn't feel like a week, you know?"

"Right," she said, "so I'm going to grab a few of my things tomorrow morning before I go to work, if you're free to open up the apartment for me."

"It would be easier if you'd just come over now," I said.

"It's like five in the morning."

"Four thirty three."

"Alright, so four thirty. It's kind of an unseemly hour to be running around and moving things. I wouldn't want to wake up your neighbors."

"They're bad people," I said, "Anyway, if you want to get your things out of here quickly then we should just take care of it and not worry about having to wake up tomorrow and rush you before you get to work."

"Theo-"

"And anyway, where are you going to put all of your stuff while you're at work? It's not like you have a particularly large car and I know how stressed you get at work. I wouldn't want all of your things to smell like cigarettes either, after you've made such an effort to hide your habits."

"Theo—"

"So, it just makes more sense for you to come over here now and get it. It's mostly boxed and we can get it all set up quickly and get you back home."

"Your earlier argument said that you didn't want to hold me up for work," she said, "but now you're advocating that we can get it done relatively quickly."

"Why are you still awake right now? Can you sleep?"

"I'll be over in five minutes," she said, "let's just take care of this."

She came in without a word and went to our bedroom. Her bedroom. My bedroom. She went to a bedroom and started grabbing the boxes I had left for her in anticipation for her need to move. She rustled through the piles of her clothes and tossed everything into the boxes.

"How's Brittney's been?"

She rolled off of her knees and looked up at the celling. She clasped her eyes with her hands and exhaled, "She's with some dude right now. He's been around a couple of times, but he hasn't introduced himself to me. I think they talk about me when he comes in. Her bedroom goes silent until they start at it," she said.

"Alvin was telling me about that," I said.

"Hall passes, to the both of them," she said, "I don't get it, but who am I to say what works for them."

She laughed and rolled back over to the boxes. She hadn't started putting her things into the boxes again, but rather she laid up against the box with the arms outstretched against the carpet. She looked like a green banana on the floor.

"I wish you hadn't left," I said, "You look like a banana on the floor, and that's certainly something I miss around here."

"Did you just think of that?" she picked herself up and started cramming her clothing into the box again.

"No, I've been thinking about it for a few days now."

"I meant the banana comment."

"My response still stands."

She laughed and moved onto the drawers, "Well, if you've been thinking about it for a while, then why hadn't you said anything?"

"I would have if I thought I still had any sort of chance of convincing you to come back."

"Well you don't."

She hadn't put it into words yet, but I knew that it was true. It was over, as dead as dead gets, but hearing it made it so much more real. Five fifty nine.

"You never did tell me why you're awake, and why you thought it was appropriate to call me and tell me you decided that you needed to come over tomorrow morning to take care of all of this. I haven't seen you wear any of these pieces for months, maybe even years," I said.

"It's still my stuff and I'd like to have it."

"Why were you awake?"

"I just was," she said, "It's not like I can't be awake. I can just be awake, I can just not sleep."

"That was the most bizarre sentence."

"Can we just do this without exposition?" she said, "I was awake: I wanted to get my clothes, I'd been meaning to do it for a while and I thought you'd be awake because you always are," Six oh two, "And you were and so was I so now I'm getting my things."

"You have work in like three hours, are you not going to sleep?"

"Tomorrow's my day off. I'm not sure why I told you that I needed to work tomorrow, but I don't. So I'm planning on going home and sleeping until I wake up."

"Oh."

She smiled weakly and taped up the two boxes. She stacked them up and moved them towards to the door, "This is all I needed, I think. Can you think of anything I'm missing?"

"No, but I think I know why you were awake."

"Besides the fact that I was just not able to sleep?"

"Yes, you miss me as much as I miss you and you can't sleep as a result of it. Why else would you reach out to me so late?"

"So, here's the real deal," she said, "Theo, you always spent your time idolizing me and thinking you know my actions and my reasons. You made me into the image of what you thought I was and that's incredibly problematic because it simply doesn't fit who I am as a person, Theo. I'm Eleanor, but you made me into another Eleanor. I was awake because I was awake and there isn't some ulterior motive or idea there. It's just what happened."

"Things don't just happen."

"Yes, they do. There's no grand tapestry or well thought out plan. You spent so much time in your head thinking about what I was thinking about or why I was doing something. I just did stuff. I wasn't thinking about anything," she stopped and grabbed the boxes, "It's always so damn simple, but you make it so much more complicated than it ever is, or ever could be."

"I'm sorry."

She put the boxes down and sat on them, looking at me. Her eyes were big and baggy with the dragged down slopes of sleepiness tearing away at them, "Yeah?"

"Yeah. You're right."

"Well, thank you, Theo," she said. She leaned back into the door and pulled herself down a bit, "Are you sure that there isn't anything else here?"

"Yeah."

"If you find anything, call me and I'll come pick it up," she tumbled to the ground and picked up the boxes as she rose back up, "For what it's worth, I'm sorry too."

"Thanks," I said.

"Yeah. Can you get the door please?"

I reached out and grabbed the door for her.

"I'll see you, Theo."


	2. Foundation

**A/N: So this series continues, and hopefully I can do an update weekly, if not faster.**

* * *

Light rain acts differently than heavy rain. It looks like snow. It falls down and the wind tears it up and tosses it about and moves it all around. When I think of rain, I think of it as falling straight down, not like fragile snow. Snow gets caught so easily, floating around in the breeze. But it happens to rain too, if it's light enough. Not like a mist, but a really light drizzle. Not enough to bother me, but enough to know that I'm getting wet. It's easy to forget about this kind of rain, but it forgets itself in the wind, so I should hold it to any higher standard than it holds itself. It's not powerful and commanding like its cousin heavy rain. It's full of dignity as it crashes to the earth. The wind can't affect it, and it knows that, it knows that nobody can hold it back from its path. And it moves so violently in its uniformity, pushing down the soft soil, carrying it with it and gravity and its purpose towards wherever it needs to go. I wish I could be that heavy rain but it isn't as easy as the rain makes it seem. It's so natural for it to force itself down the Earth's eager mouth. It rips itself and I want to be that terrible, life giving force, but that isn't who I am and I won't hold myself to any higher standard that I can't and people say that I shouldn't settle for this kind of passiveness but that's like asking snow to hold its weight in the flowing breeze. I can't be asked to do that. I can't because it's not possible.

It was with this kind of sheer force that my apartment lay torn not physically. Almost eight years ago, the Democratic People's Republic of Korea was gripped with the worst famine that it had experienced since the early Nineties, along with incredible flooding. It went from barren and plastic to a slosh of broken rice patties and dead peasants over the course of July two-thousand six, but I wasn't aware of that happening at the time and I didn't understand what kind of destruction that meant until it was sitting in my one bedroom apartment almost eight years later. That kind of flooding happened almost every year and they were never able to recover in time for the next one. The water chips away at the people and it's hopeless to fight against the inevitable course of tragic flooding but it was different than this because nothing noticeable was missing. My child hadn't been swept away when the levies overflowed outside of Pyongyang screaming in unevolving Korean anachronisms but I could see her trashing in the brown and foaming water. She gets pulled under and I get swept away soon after.

* * *

"I, for one, welcome our new life. The unending tours and bothersome public appearances were really starting to wear me down," Simon said.

"Absolutely. Fame was so horrible," Alvin said. He turned and smiled at Simon and he sighed. We ended our last ever tour on a less than famous note. The novelty of singing chipmunks lost its appeal and it was heavily suggested that we stop before it got sad. Or pathetic. Or not profitable. There were a lot of reasons our record label forced us into retirement. I hoped it was because we wanted to leave at the top but we hadn't been at the top for a couple of years. We were sixteen now, and entering a real school for the first time since we were eight. Needless to say, I was apprehensive.

"And Teddy, aren't you so ready for school?" Alvin said.

"I'm apprehensive," I said.

"That's a completely reasonable thing to feel, Theo," Simon said.

"Thank you for validating my feelings," I said.

"I only meant to quell your fears," Simon said.

"I know," I said, "I'm just giving you a hard time."

We moved to Chicago and settled in West Town. Dave thought it was a good enough place to meet us where we were. It was big and anonymous. We could live there without being hassled. January seventeenth, two-thousand seven, my first day of real school since I was eight. I hadn't remembered how school was or what it would entail. We were given all of our books and locker assignments two days ago but I didn't remember how to get around the school.

"I was thinking about starting up a band again," I said, "Like a real one this time, with original music."

"That sounds like a really great idea," Alvin said. He whipped around and walked backwards, "I'll start composing some parts for the guitar and some lyrics tonight. I had a few ideas when we were finishing the tour."

"I was mostly thinking of doing this alone," I said. It started to drizzle.

"Without us? You don't know any instruments besides drums. I can dig a drums only thing but I think you'd have a bit of trouble sticking," Alvin said.

"I learned the guitar, and I've known keys for a bit, you know that," I said.

"You should do it Theodore, and Alvin, you shouldn't meddle. If he wants to do it, then he should be allowed to do it alone," Simon said.

"Thank you Simon, but I really don't need you to stick up for me," I said.

"I know, I know, but you know how Alvin can be," Simon said.

"You're talking about me as if I'm not right here," Alvin said, "Am I not here? Can you not see me?" He waved his hands in front of Simon's face, "What an amazing skill."

"Don't be difficult, Alvin," Simon said.

"I'm going on ahead," Alvin said, "I'll see you two around."

He turned and went ahead of us. Alvin was told at a young age what his persona was going to be and how that was going to work in the grand scheme of things. It started slowly creeping into his real life and, when we were fourteen, his persona became who he was. It's hard to know if that was intentional, or a defense mechanism, or subconscious but he never recovered from it. He started smoking after that and meddling with drugs. The label never outrightly supported it but they also kept most of it from Dave. And from us, as if we didn't know. The light rain whipped into a frenzy with the wind of the corridorred streets, splashing us in our faces. It was going to turn into ice soon and snow later.

We were told to go to the front office to receive our schedules. Alvin was already waiting for us, "You two took your sweet time," Alvin said.

"Please Alvin," Simon said, "Try not to kick up a scene so early in your career."

"I'm awfully good at that," Alvin said, "I'd not want to embarrass you again though. I might get a stern talking to."

Alvin grabbed his phone and played around with it as Simon readjusted his glasses.

"You both know that what went down wasn't anyone's fault," I said.

"What went down?" Alvin said, "As far as I can tell, nothing happened. We lost popularity and our label dropped us."

"I get it now," A boy had been sitting in the office away from us and decided to speak up, "You're those guys from that spastic band. Total sell outs that covered other people's songs."

"Astute," Simon said, "What tipped you off? Was it that we aren't human?"

"What happened, did they finally let you posers off your leashes?" He said.

"They did," Alvin said, "It was the day the music died, truly."

"You know you're not artists, right? At least other pop divas pretend that they wrote their songs. Covering other popular music doesn't make you anything better than my iTunes," he said.

"Getting tossed into the corporate system to make money for some suits when we still thought girls had cooties was the first sign that we weren't artists, but your scathing review of you hackistry was the nail in the coffin," Alvin said, "my reality is falling around me."

He raised his eyebrows and looked away. Alvin was blending with his persona again and there were some pretty obvious perks to it. He was invincible when he wanted to be. The secretary printed our schedules and handed them to us.

"You'll have a guide for this first day," she said.

"Is it this guy over here?" Alvin said, "We're already fast friends."

"Luckily for you both, it's not," she said, "Her name is Eleanor Miller. I don't know what she looks like, but she should be here soon to escort you around the building for the day."

"If that isn't a target, I don't know what is," Alvin said.

"I'm going to agree with Alvin here," Simon said, "We aren't children and we do not need a babysitter to usher us around all day."

"School policy," she said.

"I know what would be a better sign of our newness," I said, "A badge that tells people that we're new and tells them to ask us about it."

"I want mine in neon green," Alvin said.

"And preferably one that lights up," Simon said, "we wouldn't want anyone to miss out on the opportunity to engage us."

"That's the cherry on top," Alvin said.

We all laughed and smiled together. It wasn't much, but it was enough. The door creaked open and from who I now know, Eleanor jumped into the office. She wore a large, school issued smile. And she looked at me and I thought she lingered but I was never sure of it. I wanted her to linger because I was lingering and I wanted company on this linger.

"Sorry I'm a bit late," she said, "are you my three new students?"

"We are three new students, but we're not yours," Alvin said.

"Alvin then? I was told to watch out for you," she said.

"Excuse him, he hasn't gotten all of his shots yet," Simon said.

"You're Simon then, and before you ask it's not from your personality but the glasses. Which makes you Theodore," she said.

"Theo," I said.

"Theo it is. Your lockers are separated, so I'll drop you at each of them and then expect you to find where you're going from there," Eleanor said, "I'm Ellie, by the way."

She was warm and calm. She brushed Alvin off and bantered with him, which caught him off guard. He eventually let his guard down and started acting a bit more normally. It was good to see him being himself for a few moments.

"I'm supposed to give you a basic tour right now, but we're going to be late if I do, so we'll do it after next period. Simon, your locker is just down this hallway from Alvin's and Theo," she said, "yours is a bit away, so we'll go to it."

So we walked. She had the same pace as me, and the hallways were starting to clear out, "Was it always your dream to be a school tour guide?" I said.

"It was my fall back career," she said.

"I'm glad you got placed with something you love regardless," I said.

"It's a dream, really," she said, "And you and your brothers, you were that band, right?"

"Yep," I said.

"How was that?"

"It had its ups and downs. Like really high ups and really low downs. I'm glad it's over, but I'm glad it happened at the same time."

"That's cool," she said, "I'm a musician myself. Sort of. I'm trying to be one."

"Really?" I said, "I was thinking of starting a project here after I get all settled in."

"I play guitar and I sing, if that's what you're looking for," she said.

"I can be looking for that," I said, "I mean, nothing's really set in stone."

She stopped walking and pulled out her notebook. She scratched into a sheet and tore it out.

"Here's my number. I have unlimited texts, so call me or text me and we can hang out and play together," she said, "your locker is just down the hall and I need to go the other way. But I'll hear from you soon, right?"

I ruffled the paper around in my hands and put it in my pocket. My phone vibrated.

"Thanks, and yeah, I'll call you," I said, "and stuff."

"Great," she said, "I'll see you around."

She took off in the other direction and the bell rang. I was late, not the best first impression I guess. I flipped open my phone. Simon had texted me, _There lived within her two spirits, love and anonymity_.

_You're such a wonderful poet_.

_I stole it._


	3. That's How We Burn

**A/N: I'm really feeling this story right now and the chapters are just flowing out. Which is always a good thing. I actually have you all to thank. I know people are reading this so I want to produce the work quickly for everyone. R&R, and let me know if you want me to ever read anything you've written (especially if it's T&E)**

* * *

My eyesight's got these faded pink smudges on them that color everything in its ruddy glow, filling the dark rooms and back alleys of Chicago with warm, healing light, and, for a city that's so dark, that's cascaded in the shadows of the massive buildings, it has its perks. And that light follows me around and amplifies itself. It never gets in the way. It makes everything better, like an infusion of spice to a new dish. When I added that spice, it was difficult to remember what it tasted like before. That element had always been there, so it's hard to remember what I used to do.

"We're Paint by the Numbers," I said.

And it's phantasms that move at the corner of our eyes that made sight so interesting and what gave birth to modern religions. It was that worship of the unknown, like a sublime dream, so horrifying and beautiful that it's hard to look away. L'appelle du vide.

"And we wanted to waste some of your time before the opening act came on," she said.

That garnered some laughs if I recall correctly. Her stage presence was always so wonderful. But back to eyesight. It's like when people blame the formation of the word religions on seizures from our prototypical brain which lack a corpus callosum, I feel like that's not simple enough. The overwhelming rapture of love and dementia threw those first civilizations into such a frenzy that it overcame the bonds of reality. Like Listzomania, or St. John's Dance, we're so good at acting strangely in groups. People blame that on mob mentality and that we've been known to make worse decisions as a unit, but it's never that. We just love each other so much that we want to see rose and feel unified.

"Really great job tonight," Simon said.

It was February two thousand and nine and we had gotten a show that wasn't in some coffee place or house party. We had finally upgraded to "sketchy dive bar on the outskirts of the south side that was so unlegit that they didn't even card our friends who came". Which was great because it convinced people to come that wouldn't have.

"As opposed to other nights?" Eleanor said.

"What of course not, I simply mean to—"

"Simon," Alvin said, "please, take stock of what she just said."

Eleanor and Alvin laughed.

"Of course," Simon said, "So, have you decided where you'll be going for college, Theo?"

"Oh," I said, "yeah I'm going to stay here and go to Depaul with Ellie. I haven't told Dave yet, so keep that to yourself."

"Exciting stuff," Alvin said, "I'm ready to get back to California. I can't believe you'd stay in these insane winters after experience them a few times. Or the summers. Really just anything that isn't San Diego."

"I wanted to stay here," I said, "So winters or not I'm in it. And, it's to stay with Ellie, barring no real explanation here."

"That should be nice," Simon said, "Jeanette and I decided to split with college encroaching, so I commend your fidelity, you two."

"Right," Eleanor said, "It should be cool."

"Not wanting to experience anything new with these four years?" Alvin said, "Just the same old bread, jam, coffee two sugars?"

"There's going to be plenty to experience, Alvin, we don't have to regress back to our thirteen year old selves to get it," I said, "Right?"

"Yeah," she said, "I definitely have to use the bathroom though. I'll be right back, inform me if this brain trust figures out anything as compelling while I'm gone."

"She," I said, "doesn't seem as excited as I do."

"What are you talking about?" Simon said, "this was her idea, wasn't it? To stay together, and keep the band up and whatnot?"

"Well yeah, but did you just see her? When Alvin was taking shots she barely even reacted," I said, "she's normally more pointed."

"To be fair, I was just joking," Alvin said, "But I wouldn't worry about it. I don't think she reacted weirdly or anything."

"I'll go talk to her," I said.

"She's using the bathroom, Theo," Simon said, "Just wait for her to be done."

"But I want to know how she feels about our situation," I said.

"You're overreacting," Simon said, "She is obviously excited that you decided to stay."

I left the table and I heard Simon sigh his normal loud sigh. I didn't want to make a mistake with her, not her or this time. I, we'd, made so many mistakes in the past and it wasn't something I was willing to do again. I finally had a foundation, and I didn't want it to be swept away. It's like the floods, they do more than take life. They tear foundations apart. For those who live, it's something that's almost insurmountable.

She was checking her phone in the corner of the bar, but who was she texting, or why was she waiting up? Did she want to see me, or get back to the table or talk to us, why was she lingering. I had to go talk to her. Or I could respect her space. Maybe she really didn't want me to stay. How do I approach this conversation, do I jump in and ask or do I dance around it. My feet started shuffling forward at this point, dancing through the crowd, hoping not to hit anyone. She was texting someone but she wasn't smiling. But she didn't look angry either. She could be neither I guess. In the middle.

"Theo, you didn't need to come find me," she said.

I guess I had reached her, but I was still thinking.

"Oh yeah, we hadn't gotten any time to ourselves after our set, so I thought I'd come find you. Good job by the way," I said.

"Thanks, I totally butchered the bridge in Not There, though," she said.

"What are you talking about? It wasn't even noticeable," I said.

"It felt like everyone could hear it, you know?" she said.

"Are you happy that I'm staying here with you?" I said.

"What?" she said, "I was the one who requested it. Of course I'm happy you're staying."

"You were just acting a bit weird back there at the table," I said, "I thought you'd changed your feelings on it."

"No, I didn't. We just finished the set and I'm tired, so that's probably what you're seeing," she said.

"Oh," I said.

Alvin and Simon handed me our coats. I wonder if they'd heard much. I hope not. I didn't like when they worried about me.

"We have about twenty to get the last train back to the city," Alvin said, "so, if you two are ready, we should get going."

"Alvin, actually on top of what needs to be done," Eleanor said, "I have to say, I'm impressed."

"If I'm not looking out for you kids, then who will?"

She tossed on her coat. It was about time to go, but I wasn't convinced that she was completely okay with the idea of me staying. I think she's over me, and college is known as the best time to branch out. She wants to branch away from me. She's not tired, she's keeping up with Alvin as always. Why would she lie about this? She's probably waiting until we graduate to end it.

"Are you coming, Theo?" Simon said.

"Yeah, sorry," I said, "Got lost in my mind for a moment there."

* * *

"So it's been three weeks now," Alvin said, "How are you doing?"

"I'm great," I said.

Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.

"Theo?" he said.

Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.

"What?" I said.

Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blahblhablalalhhlahblah bbblahahalblalhalblabhalhblhblha.

"Can you try to stay in this conversation? Jesus, I'm trying to help you," he said.

"Right," I said, "I'm just feeling a bit tired is all."

"Not sleeping well?" Alvin said.

"I guess so. I've been getting like eight hours but I always wake up exhausted," I said.

"I'm glad you're starting to move on though," Alvin said, "I'll come by later in the week to help you fix up your place and bit. Do some dishes, some laundry."

"I appreciate that, but my place is fine," I said.

"Then I'll just come over to hang out," Alvin said, "Do you know how Brittany's doing?"

"Doing that usual thing when she's getting over you," I said, "I don't know how you keep up with the song and dance you two do. It's not like you won't be back together in two weeks' time."

"I don't know," Alvin said, "I think it's because I know that in the end that's what's supposed to happen. We break up and get back together and it's good for a bit and it falls apart and we start the cycle over again. It's not perfect but neither are we. I'm so damaged I should have been returned to sender a long time ago. But she sees past that."

"I don't have a witty comeback to that. It was just a really beautiful sentiment," I said.

"Thanks, I learned it all from you," he said.

"I think it's pretty obvious that I'm not the best role model," I said, "Ellie told me why she broke up with me."

Alvin pulled out a cigarette and waved his hand to give me the floor.

"She said I'd been idolizing her, that I made her into what I thought she was, not who she actually was," I said, "And, when I think about it, she was right. We spent all this time together and I never even knew who she was."

"That's not fair," Alvin said, "You know who she is, but you've just amplified certain aspects of her. Tone it back down and bring it all back in."

"You think she'll take me back?" I said.

"I hate when people say that," Alvin said, "not to be rude but that's the most pathetic phrase. I've been dumped and I've dumped Brit enough times to know what happens if someone takes you back. It's uneven, they've taken pity on you and you should be damn grateful. Don't let her take you back, but if you want to be with her, get back together."

"This is your area of expertise, isn't it?"

"You're good at making the relationship work in function. You helped me back then, so I thought I'd return the favor," Alvin said, "but you're in uncharted waters, and it's my turn to help you."

He left and I haven't felt this clear in a while. The intrusive thoughts quieted down and took an even breath. It was easy from here, but I needed to clean up my apartment. Alvin was right about the state it is in.


	4. Midnight Surprise

**A/N: So this is a chapter and I really enjoyed writing it. I'm going to keep playing with form as the story continues and I hope that someone enjoys it as much as I did. **

* * *

Conventions are so trite, but talking about them brings that to the head, doesn't it? The act of confession, an admission that something's wrong simply because someone's thought of it and that makes it so much more apparent. It's like picking at a sore, Foucault would say that it's Western Confessionalism and Sartre defined existence through the shame of being viewed. We look on each other and see that we're looking and being viewed, the dread of the gaze and somehow that allows us to know that we exist. But then we talk about it and suddenly it's more repressive than it not being spoken about? We talk about how backward our society is, and how repressed we are, and that makes it even worse. But we're conventionally told not to suffer in silence, and that's not something I intended on doing and it's not something that Michel would have appreciated. But I can't talk about it either. That's bothersome, if anything. But freeing, but bothersome too. So I'll keep peeking through the keyhole until someone notices me because shame is worse than the fear of never being seen.

"I was thinking about joining a frat," I said.

"You can't be serious," Eleanor said, I would expect something like that out of Alvin, but not you."

"I want to try something new," I said, "And I feel so faceless here, like I'm trapped in the torrents of muddy water that is higher education."

"They're going to make you do some incredible things," she said.

"That's what I'm hoping for," I said.

And to these ends we stand out in the faceless mass hoping to be grabbed and killed or beaten within an inch of ourselves until we morph shapelessly into something else batter by the punches and kicks of these modern gangs and terrible unions. It's nothing something that's easy to endure when it's concentrated, but everyone takes a few beatings until the dents are gone and the like new exterior of your used vehicle is easier to sell. Bump up the sticker price there, patch up the silver paint, silver's in right now and it's a color that most can agree with if they're not already excited about it. It's so agreeable and I've heard that red cars are pulled over more than the rest. They stand out, peacocking with their shiny exteriors and colors that enrage and symbolize passion and lust. But we can always buff that out and make that a bit better. Just bit by bit, until it's as good as new.

"I just registered for my classes for next fall," she said.

"I was planning on doing that tomorrow," he said.

"Get on it, a lot of them are filling up," she said, "I needed English 211 for my major and I was one of the last people to get into it."

"That's no good. I was planning on taking that with you," I said, "I might need to rush over after this class. Which section did you get."

"The 1 o'clock slot," She said.

"Oh, that's going to be heavily sought after," I said.

"Why are you taking it? You don't need it for your course work, right?" she said.

"No, but it sounded interesting," I said, "Do not want me to take it because I can not take it," I said.

"That's fine, I just wondered why you were keen on it," she said, "It's not like we don't already see so much of each other."

I finished rolling my cigarette and handed her one. It's not like we don't see so much of each other. It's not like we don't already see so much of each other.

It's not like we don't see so much of each other. It's not like we don't already see so much of each other.

Indeed.

* * *

_In which we see our hero fighting over his emotions and his reconciliation with himself if only for a moment._

_Scene:_

_ Theodore lays on a couch with a book on his chest , centre stage, staring at the ceiling. He re-adjusts himself, trying to get comfortable. He takes his shoes off using only his feet. He opens his book, but quickly closes it again. He rolls off the couch to the ground. He sits back up, with his back against the couch. _

**Theodore**

Did I do something wrong? I think I did something wrong.

_(Grabs phone from pocket and checks it) _

Nine forty-seven, it's been twenty minutes. Twenty completely unchecked minutes. She would have told me if she had something to do. Twenty minutes is such a long time.

_(He slides forward to the ground) (small pause)_

I've never been good at these things, at talking. I must be a total creep. It's no wonder she wouldn't want anything to do with me. Of course she doesn't want anything to do with me. It's been twenty minutes, what could hold her up for so long?

_(He checks his phone again)_

I was stupid to think that things were going to be different this time. Why did I let myself get so involved? I wish she wouldn't have led me on. She shouldn't have texted back. She should have just ignored me.

_(Slight pause)_

Wait, no, I'm no creep, at least, I couldn't be. She didn't ignore me; she would have just ignored my texts if I was a creep. We've corresponded; she's shown interest in me, interest in my life.

_(Smiling, sitting back up)_

I'm interesting! She might just be held up somewhere, and she left her phone or something. Yeah, that's it, she just had to take care of something important, and that's why she's paying no attention to me!

_(The smile fades from his face)_

That's so stupid. Why am I so stupid? That's probably why she stopped talking to me in the first place. I can't talk to women; I've probably been saying the stupidest things to her.

(He opens his phone and looks through his messages)

Like this one, "Hey, how was your day?"

_(He lays back down on the ground, putting his hands over his eyes)_

I can't believe I say such stupid things! No wonder she isn't interested!

_(Pause, he sits back up)_

Whatever, I don't need her! I don't need any woman. _(Shouting)_ I am my own man! I don't need anyone's approval or recognition to find happiness, especially not hers. So what if she won't text me? I don't care, I'm a great guy. Yeah, I'm a great guy! I have a ton of friends and_, (Pause)_ a consistent job! I'm a total catch, and she's missing out. She has no idea what she just passed up on. Yeah, I totally don't need her.

_(He feels his pocket. The faint sound of buzzing is heard from his pocket. He stands up and reaches into his pocket and grabs his phone)_

It's her _(he pauses)_ I don't need her, right? I only need myself. I'll stop texting her. I shouldn't let her have this much control on my emotions. I shouldn't. I should stop texting her.

_(He sits back down on the couch, puts the phone next to him, grabs his book and starts reading. He looks back the phone and then back at the book. He quickly grabs the phone)_

I just won't text her tomorrow.

_End Scene_

"Play it cool Theodora. It's never as deep as you think," Alvin said.

I was telegraphing my moves all over our condo. Homework was an afterthought.

"Could you not call me that?" I said.

"It's actually a complement, Theodore," Simon said, "Theodora was the consort of Justinian the third and together they saw the most prosperous period of the Byzantine Empire. She personally saw huge changes in the Arts and Women's Rights."

"Yes, that's what I was going for," Alvin said, "You're quite the ruler."

"Jokes aside, what do I do?" I said.

"Why do you care so much?" Alvin said, "She's just some girl."

"She's not some girl. She's amazing, everything I've ever wanted," I said.

"Everything, well then, try not to blow it. You've only known each other for a month now. I hardly hear wedding bells," Alvin said.

"I could, I promise I could," I said, "If only she would give me the time of day, I would."

"Theodore, you have to calm down," Simon said, "I know things have been a bit crazy around here and you've just started to settle in, but we're young and you sound insane."

"I know I do, but she makes me feel insane," I said, "In a good way, I feel crazy good."

"My heart is truly atwitter for you," Alvin said.

We started talking a few weeks ago. I wasn't sure if she was serious about hanging out or starting a band or even being friends, but things were going well. I could feel us together. I could feel it pulsing and breaking through, the only problem was making it happen. And, without that, none of these feelings really mattered. We had one class together, and that was study hall. We would talk and mess around and it was really great. I gave her my number under the guise of talking about school stuff, but it changed from there to just talking. And we would call each other. And we would hang out with her friends and her sisters and my brothers and we would run around Chicago, nobody cared. It was February and it felt like the warmest month of the year.

"One of my friend's is having a party tonight," she said, "do you want to come?"

"One of her friend's is having a party, and she asked if I want to come. Do I want to come?" I said.

"Yes, you do and so do we," Alvin said.

"It's a Thursday night," Simon said, "I have homework to do."

"Come on, Si Si," Alvin said, "quit being so lame."

"Alvin, she only asked me," I said, "But I can ask if I can bring you along."

"You bring me? I thought I'd never hear those words," Alvin said.

"Can I bring Alvin? He's super desperate," I said.

"It's kinda a small thing, so I didn't want to invite a bunch of people," she said, "Is that okay?"

"Absoultely," I said, "It's a small thing Alvin, so only me this time."

I grabbed his metro pass and walked out the door.

"Hey, what if I need that?" he said.

"Mine's in our room, somewhere," I said, "Also, if Dave gets suspicious, tell him I'm doing drugs on the beach."

"Can you meet me at my place? I hate walking around alone at night," she said.

It took thirty three minutes to get to the party and it was already in full swing. As in there were four other people there drinking and smoking. Pretty cool. Ron was some alternative kid whose parents either didn't care or were out of town or a combination of both. He was snarky and mean, so I liked him as well as most. He had a fake and a ton of weed, which made him popular with everyone and exclusive enough to surround himself with who he wanted to, which I guess was Ellie and myself. We played beer pong and kings and cheers to the governor, and we got destroyed and felt like we were going to die and felt like we were alive as if some miasma had taken us so young. It was melodramatic when a couple stared fighting and when they were too drunk to really understand why they were angry and they felt themselves shivering and we took our leave.

"Thanks for coming out tonight, Theo," she said, "Ron's nice, but he's been creepin' lately."

"He didn't seem too creepy tonight, like he barely spoke to you," I said, "But if he's such a creep, why did you want to go to this?"

"He's got the best shit and I was feeling lethargic," she said, "And I told him that we were together so he would back off my case."

I could have thrown up because of the booze and my blood gushed through my body because of her words. I got rigid.

"I hope that's alright," she said.

I grabbed her hand and she laced her fingers with mine. She stopped next to a bodega under an awning and I kept the snow from drifting unto us.

"It is," I said.

"Good," she said, "I hope this is okay too."

She leaned in. And we kissed. We lingered with the drifting now and the swirl of our bodies and the alcohol and each other.

"It is."


End file.
